I'm Home
by xXFanGirl23Xx
Summary: Post Reichenbach. John has had the same nightmare every night for three years. How can he possibly make it go away? Rated M for suicidal themes.


_He stood across the street from Bart's. His phone rang as he went to cross the street. He looked at it for a brief second before answering._

"_Sherlock, are you okay?" he asked, hurrying a little more._

"_Turn around and walk back the way you came." Sherlock said, a small amount of tension could be heard in his voice._

"_No, I'm coming in." he persisted._

"_Just… Do as I ask… Please." Sherlock begged. John paced a few steps back._

"_Where?" he asked._

"_Stop there." Sherlock said in a strict tone. _

"_Sherlock…" he pleaded._

"_Okay, look up… I'm on the rooftop." Sherlock said, still in a pain ordinary voice. He looked up and saw him standing on the edge of the roof. It took him a few seconds before he could speak again._

"_Oh god…" was all that he could find to say._

"_I-I-" Sherlock stammered. "I can't come down so we'll just have to do it like this."_

"_What's going on?" he asked in a slightly frantic state._

"_An apology. It's all true." Sherlock said flatly. His heart dropped._

"_What?" he asked in disbelief._

"_Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." Sherlock said, his voice sounded saddened, like he was going to cry. The sound of the voice was heartbreaking to hear, but he persisted._

"_Why are you saying this?" he asked, fearing the answer that followed._

"_I'm a fake." Sherlock said._

"_Sherlock-"_

"_The newspapers were right all along." Sherlock interrupted. "I want you to tell Lestrade. I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you, that I invented Moriarty for my own purposes."_

"_Okay, shut up Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met – the first time we met – you knew all about my sister, right?" He prompted, trying to get the detective to come to his senses._

"_Nobody could be that clever." Sherlock said._

"_You could." He said. There was a little laugh and then a slight pause before Sherlock replied._

"_I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything I could to impress you. It's a trick. It's just a magic trick." Sherlock said with a slight but sad laugh to his voice._

"_No. Alright, stop it now." He said as he went to move towards the hospital. He could do it; talk him back to sense. He just had to get onto that damn rooftop and pull him back and make him see._

"_No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move." Sherlock pleaded. He backed up to where he was, raising his free hand in surrender. He saw Sherlock's arm outstretched towards him now._

"_Alright." He said softly._

"_Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?" Sherlock asked, sounding on the verge of tears._

"_Do what?" he asked, trying to keep calm._

"_This phone call, it's…. it's my note. That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note." Sherlock said, all the seriousness coming to replace the sadness in his voice._

_He pulled the phone away for a moment, taking a deep breath to help him keep his cool._

"_Leave a note when?" he asked urgently. There was still time. He could do it._

"_Goodbye, John." Sherlock said sadly and solemnly._

"_No, don't __―__" he tried to choke out as Sherlock hung up. He didn't know what it was that had gotten into Sherlock's mind, but he had to do something. Sherlock's arms were raised to the side of him._

"_SHERLOCK!" he yelled as Sherlock took one step forward. The rest of his body followed suit._

"_Sher __―__" he started sadly. He watched as Sherlock fell. He heard the thud from the opposite street. He rushed to him, but was hit and knocked down to the ground. It took him a while before he stood up and made his way towards the crowd that surrounded the body._

'_Sherlock…. Sherlock….' He said in his mind. He continued to move forward until he felt someone's body hit his._

"_I'm a doctor. Let me come through, please. Let me come through!" he slurred as he pushed through. Everyone was trying to hold him back. "He's my friend… He's my friend, please." he continued. He saw the blood on the street. He couldn't tell who, but someone was shaking Sherlock's body. He had to check. He couldn't let it go. Not after all they'd been through together._

_He knelt beside Sherlock, taking his wrist in his hand. He pressed down for a pulse, but there was none. 'No… no…' he said as the people surrounding him pulled him back. Sherlock's hand fell numbly to the ground as he sat back._

_He looked over as they rolled Sherlock's lifeless body onto his back to be able to lift him onto the gurney to roll him inside. His eyes were still open. He'd seen death. He watched as it crept closer._

"… _Jesus Christ... no…" he slurred. His head was pounding from the collision with the street, but he ignored it as he watched his friend being lifted up and taken away._

"_God no…" he murmured._

John sat straight up in bed, shaking still, and on the verge of tears. He put his head in his hands. For three years he had had that same nightmare, and it was always about the last time he'd ever spoken to Sherlock. The last thing he wanted to say was haunting his memory for a long time now. He couldn't stop himself from crying nowadays. No one could help him anymore. Lestrade let him in on cases, just to keep his mind off things, but he hadn't taken up one for more than a year. Molly invited him to dinner on Fridays, but he started turning her down so much, she stopped asking. Mrs. Hudson let him stay at 221B for what his share of the rent was, but he was starting to look for a new flat.

It was three years to the date that Sherlock had died. John had been looking for a new flat for three years, but his heart still thrived in the place he had shared with his best friend. He was brought out of his depressing thoughts when he heard his phone go off. He looked over.

**ONE NEW MESSAGE**

John picked up his phone and had to pinch himself five times to make sure he'd woken up fully.

_Open the door. I'm home. – SH_


End file.
